


At the Stages – Introspection

by gotthefeels



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bokuto centric, M/M, Mentions of alcoholism, One Shot, and drugs, guys ANGST, is a short thing i wrote i while ago, its a bokuaka but akaashi is only implied, not really sure this'll go anywhere, please don't read if you are easy triggered or anything im serious, this is really angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 13:37:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15583137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotthefeels/pseuds/gotthefeels
Summary: I still think about you everyday,maybe two or three times,when I get carried away.Partially inspired on LP's song Too Much.





	At the Stages – Introspection

**Author's Note:**

> So guys i found this thing i wrote a while ago as a start of something else, but i never finished it like i never finish anything in my goddamn life. I read it again and realized it's not that bad and decided to post it. 
> 
> Im a film student and i've always been interested in writing. Bokuto is my Favorite Character™ in the whole world because he's so goddamn interesting and pliable that i can't help but invent crazy AU's in which i twist him in all the possible ways. This is a bit of one on those AU's and in regards to it's contents, i'd like to quote my screenwriting teacher: _"If you love a character, make them suffer as much as possible. That's what writers do, we enjoy making them sad."_
> 
> Truer words have never been spoken.
> 
> Im not about to deal with people triggered, so even if there's no explicit treatment of the things mentioned in the tags, you read it under your own responsibility. thanks
> 
> Also, english isn't my first language ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

People were running all over the place, screaming at each other and into the tiny bluetooth devices on their ears. The same strange organized chaos had surrounded him for years —how long had it been now?— and yet he had never really grew accustomed to it. Outside the noise merged in a single roar that filled his ears even through the soundproofed door. Both palms extended on the counter, —the mirror covered with a towel, hair accessories, make up and other bunch of stuff he didn’t even knew the name of and never used anyway— Koutarou took a deep breath.

_…Everything I want,  
you have been all along… _

He came out of the dressing room and was immediately surrounded by the make up team, a water bottle was pressed into his palm, brushes loaded with products to make his sweating less obvious were scrubbed over his nose and cheekbones. He’d always found that kind of useless; he didn’t mind the sweat, and at this point in his career he couldn’t care lees for what people might see of him on-stage, whether they liked it of found it gross. They were there to hear him sing, he thought as he grabbed the guitar that was offered to him.

He gently pushed the make up guy’s hand away, what was his name again? He took a long sip of water, that wasn’t really important either.

_But ohh… it’s too much, I’m falling…_

“We’re out in five, ready?” said the producer.

He gave her a single nod. It was time for the show; there was no time to lose. 

The moment he stepped outside, the voice of the crowd made his heart beat slightly harder, adrenaline jumping between his muscles. This was the only reason he kept doing what he did. The only reason he was still alive. One chord, two chords, and the audience shut down expectantly, waiting for the song to start.

_I still think about you everyday…  
maybe two or three times, when I get carried away. _

Lately he couldn’t find the energy within himself to go back to the up-beat songs that made the crowd go wild jumping and screaming the lyrics back at him; he was immensely tired, he couldn’t dance with them and put the right mood. Lately all he could do was acoustic, and while the fans didn’t seem to mind, he did felt the change. He made it up by interaction, he liked having them come up with him on stage and sing his songs. But at the end of the day, it was not much more than a placebo for his guilt.

_I could never push rewind and erase,  
but at least I know now that it wasn’t a phase. _

The vodka with which he not-so-secretly replaced the water on the bottles in his dressing room no longer helped him reach the stage of stupor that had helped him the past couple of years. The sniffing wasn’t enough to refill the energy he needed to perform. He had to adapt and make changes in order to keep going despite the ill thoughts his condition filled him with; he’d been doing that his whole life.

Although there was that other thing too…

_You’re everything I want,  
and you have been all along.  
But ohh… it’s too much. _

Koutarou doesn’t know why he came back. How is it that after what felt like a lifetime he could still shake the ground Koutarou walked in? How is it fair after everything he’d done to pick himself up and move forward, as crippled and uneven and fragile as it may be?

His voice felt tired too. Despite his efforts, it just wasn’t enough. He had to try harder, he couldn’t let them down, they were all he had left, the only reason he was still moving, the only reason he woke up in the mornings. They helped him shake the numbness away, kept him awake, even when he hit the lowest points; when all those negative thoughts sang a deep chorus in his head, when he sank and his strength wasn’t enough anymore to make him come afloat again to take a breath, like it used to be.

_Hold me closer and I’ll try to forget.  
If I take it too far, I will always regret. _

Is it ever going to be over? He thought, somewhat desperately.

And he was there. Again. Reaching out to him, to pull him out like he had when they were young and Koutarou wasn’t what he was right now. Whatever it was. God, he couldn’t even look at himself in the mirror without a grimace. What has he become? He hated it. He hated everything he was. 

He didn’t want to be saved, he had thought.

But most importantly, he didn’t want to take his hand.

_Hurting someone who will never suspect,  
who isn’t even aware that you could be such a threat. _

How selfish, he thought. He’d always been, even when he tried not to. For years he fought to suppress that ugly part of him. He had worked so hard in being the absolute opposite of what he was on the inside. He had lived fearing that someday everything bad about him would come out and ruin the world he had managed to build with so much effort, that it would stain everything he loved a deep red. He had invested such an amount of energy; but in the end everything he’d repressed came out anyway.

Koutarou wouldn’t dare blame him. Not really. Not for running away. Not when he had been prepared to let him go at the moment he realized Koutarou wasn’t what he wanted, wasn’t worth the try. 

Nevertheless, some resentment had nested deep inside his heart, and it was something he could not deny.

_Too much… too much will never be enough_

A drop of sweat dripped slowly trough his temple.

Ah, he was so tired. 

The last chord of the song came, the noise a constant crescendo. Not a single second of silence was allowed. He grabbed a bottle of water hidden in a corner of the stage and took a sip. It went burning down his throat. His nose was tickling an awful lot; the colors seemed somehow more brilliant. The faces in the ground all merged into one, and then separated again only to start jumping from one side to the other. 

He’s cold, he’s hot. 

His hands are shaking.

The mop of curly hair and the sharp dark gaze under it is the only thing he can see on his peripheral vision. Is the last thing he sees before he hits the ground.

_I can't look back, I'll turn to dust._

**Author's Note:**

> I was trying that style in which you interline a song or a poem with the story, but im not sure it came out right and im not really loving it. Well, whatever.
> 
> If you feel like talking to me about Bo, (or anything else, really) here's my [Tumblr](https://ugh-gotthefeels.tumblr.com) and my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/4tomic_4pple)


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